


New

by AshAndSnow



Series: Bad prompt mashups [7]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alien Loki, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Chef Loki, First Dates, First Kiss, Food, M/M, Restaurants, Tony owns a restaurant, Travel, white lies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-16 17:59:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28710852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AshAndSnow/pseuds/AshAndSnow
Summary: In an attempt to escape his past and his family, Loki makes a life for himself on Midgard as a chef. On a journey to gather inspiration, he might just come across something much more interesting instead.(Prompts:1: A chef goes travelling for inspiration and finds love along the way.2: A lonely alien, the last of its kind, tries to make a life for itself and fit in on Earth.)
Relationships: Loki/Tony Stark
Series: Bad prompt mashups [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1987786
Comments: 18
Kudos: 74





	New

Imagine this:

You’re the second prince of an alien planet. It is not a bad life, no. It is indeed one of luxury and privilege. But you are not entirely happy. You have a brother, older than you, brighter, more golden, stronger, more loved. Better than you in all the ways that others perceive to be more important. This includes your parents.

Imagine. then, that you, completely by accident, come to learn that you are adopted. And not only that, oh no. You are the last living member of a race of monstrous people from a dead, frozen planet – a nation that has always been considered the enemy of the place you grew up.

Imagine that, and you have imagined Loki’s backstory.

To escape, Loki has chosen to make a life for himself elsewhere. Because how does one continue living life as usual, when you know that you are an impostor, and everyone around you would hate you, if they knew who you truly are?

And so, Loki has made his way to Earth. Or Midgard, as it was known to him until he arrived here.

And he is thriving.

He likes the diversity of Midgard. How different everyone looks, how many different types of nature and landscape this one single planet contains, how many stories humans can come up with to explain one single phenomenon, how many different cultures are fostered, and how individuality is praised.

But most of all, he likes the food.

Asgard is always the same. Alcohol and meat is considered the pinnacle of fine cuisine. But Midgard has so much more to offer. Fruits and vegetables, herbs and spices, so many interesting drinks and curious meats, breads and cheeses, cakes and candies, blends of tea, and so many incredible, exotic, and unfamiliar things like pasta, wine, coffee, and candy floss.

It is no wonder, then, that Loki spends many a year exploring and perfecting his skills in a kitchen, eventually making a living as a chef.

Ah, but make no mistake. A chef he may have become, and perhaps he is indeed among the very best. But his curiousity never wanes; and so, he finds himself embarking upon a journey across the lands to gather inspiration and learn more.

This is how he finds himself in Italy.

x

”Excuse me?”

Loki looks up from the book he’s reading, seated at a small cafe table by the most beautiful of fountains, and looks straight into the most beautiful pair of brown eyes he has ever seen.

”Hm?” he hums, inquiring.

”I was just wondering if I could sit here with you. Every table is occupied.”  
  


A simple enough request. Loki nods. ”Feel free.”

The man in front of him raises his eyebrows in surprise as he sits. ”You speak English.”

For a second, Loki frowns. Then it clicks. All-speak. The man probably spoke to him in Italian, but heard his response in English, as the language most familiar to him. His expression smoothes. ”It seems that is what you heard,” he says, not lying.

The man grins. ”I guess my accent’s slipping,” he says, joking a bit. ”I’m Tony, by the way.”

”Loki.”

”Loki, huh? So your name’s Scandinavian, but you’re here in Italy, clearly familiar with both Italian and English. What’s the story there?”

For obvious reasons, Loki is not about to tell him the truth. Instead, he gets the answer befitting the carefully crafted character he has taken to playing. ”It’s rather simple. I like food and I like words.”

”Ah, here for the food, are you? Don’t blame you, Italy does it better than anyone else, in my humble opinion.”

”Careful. You are getting my expectations up.”

”I’m confident we can meet them.”

”Oh? You’re counting yourself among those who will have to lift that burden?”

The man shrugs, but grins a bit. ”Maybe. I’ve got a restaurant right around here, inherited it from my mom. I’d like to convince you to come give it a try.”

”I don’t even know your last name.”

”Tough customer. Alright, if you agree to let me cook for you, I’ll throw my name into the mix. Hell, I’ll even make you a special offer. If you give me yours too, I’ll close the restaurant down especially for you.”

Well. Loki’s not about to refuse a deal like that. He offers the man a hand. ”Løvgren. The name is Loki Løvgren.”

The other man brightens, taking Loki’s hand. ”I’m Tony Carbonell.”

x

And so, the following evening, Loki shows up on the doorstep of Tony’s restaurant, _Carbonell_.

”Hey! Come on in,” Tony grins once he swings the door open to let Loki in.

Loki does as told, stepping through the door and into one of the coziest little restaurants he has ever had the pleasure of entering. The place is lit with candles and string lights, the tables covered in red and white checkered cloth of the kind Loki has come to know as a classic. Baskets are hanging from the ceiling, plants overflowing, green and lovely against the many pictures on the walls and the books stacked on shelves, giving the place an added touch of romance and comfort.

  
Loki likes it very much.

”It’s a lovely place,” he comments, looking around as Tony helps him out of his jacket.

”Thank you. I kept it the way my mom designed it. Never felt right to change it.” He speaks as he hangs Loki’s jacket on one of two coat racks right by the entrance, before gently guiding Loki to a table, hand on his back. It’s warm, and Loki likes it.

”Where is she now?”

”At home. She lives a couple doors down. She loves this place, but she’s no spring chicken. It was time she retire and enjoy herself, so she doesn’t really work as much as she used to.” Tony pulls out a chair. ”Sit, please. I’ll go get our dinner, it’s almost ready.”

Loki does, sliding into the seat and letting Tony push the chair in. For a second, Loki doesn’t quite understand; then he remembers. This is what is called ’being a gentleman’ here on Midgard. It is a sign of good manners and romantic intentions. Interesting. A good sign indeed.

”I’ll be back in a sec,” Tony promises, before disappearing behind the bar and through a door, presumably into the kitchen.

A few minutes pass with Loki waiting, but he doesn’t mind. It doesn’t feel so bad to just sit and take in the restaurant. He really did mean it when he’d called it lovely. The place has so much to look at, though not so much that it feels overhwelming. More like being in someone’s home. Like Frigga’s chambers on Asgard. Hel, like being in his own home. He’s always liked surrounding himself with things.

And soon enough, Tony returns, plates of pasta in hand. ”Here you are. Made my mom’s special pasta sauce and everything, just for you. It takes forever to make, but it’s so worth it.”

”Oh, my. My expectations are sky high,” he responds, echoing their conversation from their first meeting. And it certainly doesn’t look or smell bad. That much he can admit about the food landing on the table just before him.

”I’m sure my mother’s recipe is more than able to meet them.” Tony’s all confidence as he pours them both a glass of wine, catching onto Loki’s reference and meeting it in kind. Once done, he proceeds to sit down across from Loki at the tiny, cozy table. ”Well, dig in. We can get to know each other over dinner.”

And Loki obliges.

The evening that unfolds is wonderful. He learns that Tony’s father is American and his mother Italian, that his father wanted him to work with technology in the business he’d inherited from his father before, but Tony always felt more at home with his mother in the kitchen. He learns that Tony still likes to fiddle with technology, and has personally upgraded everything in the kitchen. And he learns that Tony would do almost anything for a cheeseburger, that he’s kept every single ticket stub from every single movie he’s gone to watch with his much adored and long passed uncle Jarvis, and he once helped pay for a friend to move so he could be with the love of his life.

In return, Loki shares what he can about himself. He’s always loved being in nature and regularly goes for walks in the countryside. He’s always had an affinity for birds, and whenever he settles down somewhere, he plans to feed the birds and attempt to forge a bond with the local crows. And he’s secretly creative, fond of writing and drawing and simply making something where once there was nothing.

Tony’s wonderful. Truly, he’s a delight. Loki enjoys his company a lot, and he can picture so much more happening between them further down the line.

  
There’s just one thing: Tony’s a terrible chef.

The food looked good, smelled even better. But whatever Tony tried to accomplish with his mother’s special pasta sauce recipe, he has failed miserably.

Still, Loki puts on a brave face and finishes the whole thing. It’s not worse than Thor’s attempt at a campfire meal. Clearly, Loki is well versed in pretending to like what he is served, and it is a skill he does not hesitate to make great use of now.

And really, Tony’s company does make up for the poor attempt at a meal. So he focuses on that; on the way Tony’s eyes glimmer in the candlelight, the way a particularly good joke makes him snort and then laugh, a noise that goes high before it evens out into a deeper tone, charming the socks right off Loki’s feet; the way he rubs his chin and jaw when recalling something that reveals how truly sentimental he is, despite how obvious his attempts to hide it are.

The night ends back in the doorway. They’re standing close together, ostensibly because of the lack of space, secretly because they crave each other’s presence. They’re lit by the soft ligthing from inside, the nearest streetlights too far to truly reach them. It creates this little bubble, like they’re completely alone in the world. Loki likes the feeling.

”Thank you for a lovely evening. I had a great time,” Tony tells him

”Likewise,” Loki assures him. ”I’d like to see you again.”

”That can be arranged.” And oh, Tony’s grin is infectious, causing a matching one to bloom on Loki’s face.

”Yes?”  
  


”Yes. I’ll even seal it with a kiss, if you want.”

Well. Tony doesn’t need to tell Loki twice.

And so, Loki leans in, leans down, meets Tony’s lips with his own. And oh, it’s perfect. It’s tingling all the way down his spine, it’s curling toes, it’s butterflies in his stomach. It’s a hand cupping his jaw and slipping up into his hair, his own palms molding themselves against Tony’s hip and chest. It’s his heart going faster, and feeling Tony’s own beat against his palm in a matching rhythm. It’s fireworks and birdsong and sunlight warming his face for the first time after a long, dark winter.

Except… Oh, yes, it’s perfect, but Loki does feel a little bad for his small deception at dinner. If this is to become more, he doesn’t want to hide anything. Or, well. Anything more than he has to.

So when they break apart, still entwined but no longer kissing, he decides to speak up.

”Before I leave, there is something I must confess to you.”

  
Tony leans back just enough to look up at him with a gentle frown. ”What is it?”

Loki takes a deep breath. ”Your food… I didn’t like it. My apologies, but it really was not for me.” Which is a polite way to put it, really.

Completely against expectation, Tony just grins at Loki. ”That’s okay,” he promises. ”I’ve got a confession to make, too.”

”Oh?”

”I do own the place, but I’m not a chef. I just pretended so I could impress you. I guess my mother’s instructions weren’t enough to fool you and disguise my terrible skills in the kitchen.”

Loki just tips his head back and laughs, before leaning in to capture Tony’s lips in another delightful kiss.


End file.
